William by Claire Cray Page A

sheen of tears. She gripped my shoulders, smiling
gently. “You must make the most of it. I know you will.”
    “I will,” I said, my voice thick with emotion
as I took my last look of her lovely face.
    “I always knew you’d fly off,” she said,
laying her hand on my cheek like I was still a boy. “I knew it the
day you were born. You’ll be gone a long while, William, won’t
you?”
    I nodded, choked by tears, and put my hand
over hers. “Will you be careful?” I begged. “And stay as you always
are—don’t let any fools in your house while I’m gone. I’ll send
money, and if you have any trouble you must write to me, and then
go straight for this idiot. He’ll do whatever I’d do.”
    My mother laughed softly. I wished I could
see her shining black hair one last time. I wished I didn’t know
I’d never be with her again in the quiet of the evening, reading by
firelight as she did her mending and made her pretty things by
needlepoint, singing he own mother’s old songs all the way. My wise
and tender mother, of course she knew I’d fly off. In fact I had a
feeling she already knew I’d not be coming back. She seemed to have
made her peace with it enough to comfort me now.
    “You must write to me,” she said. “Long, long
letters all about your travels. I’ll share them with this princely
young man you’ve left me with.” She said that loudly enough for
Jeremy to hear where he’d stepped off to give us a moment, and I
heard him snort softly behind me.
    “I will,” I said, trying my damndest not to
let my lips tremble.
    “Don’t cry, my darling,” she whispered, and
pulled my close again. “Don’t cry. You were born for a wild
journey, and now it’s time to set sail. I’m so proud of you,
William.”
    “Thank you,” I choked out, and squeezed her
tight. There was nothing more either of us could say, and I took
comfort in knowing our hearts were open enough that we didn’t need
the words at all. Finally letting her go, I kissed her cheek and
took one last look at her shining face. “Farewell, mother.”
    “Farewell, William.” She smoothed my hair,
her eyes brimmed with tears. And then, with a final gentle smile,
she nudged me on my way.
    Jeremy fell in step with me again as we went
on down Fulton, giving me a bit of silence to collect myself.
Within moments we were in view of South Street, the wide promenade
teeming with shouting men, tumbling crates, and gentlemanly
passengers searching for their vessels.
    “I’ve got to ask, Lacy.”
    I turned to look at him fondly.
    Jeremy raised his eyebrows, cocking his head.
“You never thought me handsome?”
    For a second I only gaped at him, and then I
doubled over in laughter.
    “A simple ‘no’ would suffice, you dumb
cod.”
    “Oh, God!” I wiped my eyes, shaking my head.
“What if I had?”
    “Guess you won’t find out,” he grinned.
    I grabbed him in a bear hug. “Take care. Take
care, Jeremy. Don’t forget me.”
    “Forget my son-in-law?” he said, hugging me
harder. “Shame you’ll miss the wedding.”
    “Take care, lad.” I pulled back to look at
him.
    “You take care, Will.” He socked me in the
chest. “Remember me.”
    And so my last farewell was behind me. I made
off alone down South Street, beneath the jutting bowsprits of the
ships, and found my vessel. Within the hour I was watching New York
fade into the distance, the ships and the skyline dark and lovely
against the burning sunset. There was no telling when, or if, I’d
ever return, but I took comfort in my mother’s words, as always. I
could only hope it was true. For whether or not I was born for a
wild journey, I was on it anyway.

CHAPTER NINE
    I did not dwell on the mark of exhaustion on
his face, for the heat in his eyes when he saw me was beautiful
beyond words. He had appeared in the hall before me almost as soon
as I set foot in the house, his solemn face made vulnerable by the
whirlpools of emotion in his eyes: relief, wariness,